


Dinner and a Show (not necessarily in that order)

by luvscharlie



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Community: hp_beholder, F/M, Fanfiction, Het, Masturbation, Quidditch, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-08
Updated: 2010-10-08
Packaged: 2017-10-12 12:52:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvscharlie/pseuds/luvscharlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tonks has been given the assignment of guarding the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team as punishment for a few Auror transgressions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner and a Show (not necessarily in that order)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [swissmarg](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=swissmarg).



> Warnings: Voyeurism, Wanking, Teenage witch lingo that might make you want to gnash your teeth
> 
> Author's Notes: Thank you, mugglemama for the beta.
> 
> Originally written for swissmarg's request at the 2010 hp_beholder fest on Insane Journal

The only thing getting Tonks through the day was the thought of how many ways she might get Kingsley back for sending her on this assignment. A kick to the groin would be good. She'd take great pleasure in watching him bend over clutching himself in pain, particularly if it meant she got a nice view of that arse of his. Or maybe she could spit in his tea… it was well deserved. Great Merlin, this was a boring assignment. She had not done all that fucking training to guard full-of-themselves Quidditch stars. Why couldn't the Bulgarian Ministry use their own people to guard their players? Why did these sorts of shite jobs always fall to her?

Okay, granted, this was supposed to be some sort of punishment—albeit an undeserved one. Hey, a girl trips sometimes, and it wasn't like she told them to put that very expensive (quite priceless, really) statute there, now was it? No. It certainly was not.

And then there was the "mouthing off" (Shacklebolt's words, not hers) that she did "all the time" (once again, not her words and _completely untrue_ ) that had earned her this "detention." No really, he'd called it "detention." Like she was some sort of child who needed to go stand in the corner and touch her nose to the wall or something. And next time, she had been told, perhaps she'd engage her brain before she engaged her mouth. Unlikely! Shacklebolt had apparently never checked her detention records from Hogwarts, or he'd know better. Her mouth had a long history of engaging before her brain. In fact, it was a chronic condition of hers, if her mother was to be believed. She'd show Shacklebolt engaging her brain—in the form of engaging her foot right up his firm, fit and rather delicious arse. And really, Shacklebolt had earned the "accidental" stomp on his foot that had occurred after he'd told her to get her head out of her arse and pay attention. Particularly, since he'd said those words loud enough for the entire office to hear. It was hard enough being a new Auror without her immediate supervisor always being on her case.

So really this entire punishment that she was being forced to endure was all Kingsley Shacklebolt's fault. _What? It completely was!_

It was the giggling that brought Tonks out of her own thoughts of Kingsley Shacklebolt, his rather scrumptious arse, and all the ways she'd like to kick it. Tonks drew her wand at the approaching gaggle of teenage girls, stepping in front of the entrance to the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team's changing rooms. "Sorry, ladies. You'll need to be on your way. This area is not open to the public."

"Is it true?" one of them asked, leaning in conspiratorially to whisper.

"Is what true?" Tonks whispered back.

"He's in there, isn't he? And is he, Oh. Em. Bee. Like naked and stuff?" The girl waved her hand at her own face as though she might pass out at the thought… or take off and fly. Tonks thought the chances were equally good that either might occur.

"Oh Em Bee? What the hell does that even mean?"

The three girls rolled their eyes, as though Tonks was the most ridiculous person in the universe.

"You know. O.M.B. Oh Merlin's Balls, of course," one of them said. "Where've you been? Under a rock somewhere for the past, like you know, for ever?"

Dear Merlin, had she ever talked like that? Sounded that clueless? She feared she just may have. Thank goodness for growing up.

"Ladies, I'm going to have to ask you to move along."

"Oh come on," said one of the girls with pink hair (hey, despite her lack of vocabulary, that one at least had taste), popping her gum. "We just want a little peek. We won't tell anyone that you fell down on the job. It's Viktor-bloody-Krum in there."

The girl with dark hair snarled her nose at her pink-haired friend. "Who the bloody fuck cares about Krum? Levski's in there and Vulchanov and O.M.B. I really would just die for a chance to see them up close. And if I could touch one of them—Merlin, I'd just D-I-E, right there. Come on, lady," she said looking at Tonks with pleading eyes, "have a heart."

And Tonks softened. She'd remembered having the absolute biggest crush when she was thirteen on the Tornadoes' Keeper—oh what was his name again? Tony? No, that wasn't right. Toby? Maybe. And she was just about to relent and let the girls stick around long enough to get an autograph and meet their heroes when the pink-haired girl went and said, "You were young once, right?"

Bloody hell! She wasn't ancient. She was still young; barely out of the Auror Academy. And to think she'd thought that child had good taste. She was clueless. Absolutely and totally clueless! "Scram! Now!" Tonks shouted, and the girls shuffled away grumbling about the old bint who refused to let them get a look at their idols.

"Young once, my arse," Tonks grumbled, pacing back and forth in front of the changing room door and taking out her aggression on a rock with a good hard kick. "Little pain in the arse fans." The grumbling continued as the Bulgarian National Quidditch players filed out one by one and Apparated away under her supervision… all except Viktor-sodding-Krum, Mr. Oh. Em. Whatever-the-hell, himself.

"And what the hell is taking the big lump of muscles so long anyway? It's not as if I don't have other things I could be doing than waiting around on him."

She stomped into the changing room, nearly falling over a beater bat that someone had left lying carelessly about. Honestly, Quidditch players were worse than children; the only difference was that their heads were bigger thanks to fans like those little twits she'd just encountered.

"Krum!" she called out from the doorway, hesitating to go farther in. After all, she wasn't sure what she might see… of course, upon further reflection, she might see something rather nice. Those Bulgarian Quidditch players she'd watched file past her out of the changing room had been rather fit, and really what would it hurt to sneak a little peek? This "punishment" might prove to have its perks after all.

She'd called out to him once; seemed like fair enough warning. Tonks took care to ease around the lockers and sneak towards where she could hear the sound of the water from a shower beating down like rain. She moved farther into the changing rooms and turned a corner around some lockers.

And there he was… standing with his back to her, beneath the shower spray—Viktor Sodding Krum, in all his tanned and muscled perfection. Tonks inched closer, stubbing her toe on a bench and biting down on her lower lip to keep from cursing aloud or crying out in pain, before she limped on to get a better view.

Viktor was a sight to behold—and she was beholding as much of him as she could take in—sore toe or not, this was not something she planned to miss. She could _almost_ forgive the girls for calling her ancient, since they'd planted this rather delicious idea into her head… almost, but not quite. She was still young, damn it! She was!

Tonks put the teenage witches out of her head and focused on the spectacular sight before her. There was a large tattoo of a ship on Viktor's lower back, and Tonks wondered if it was some homage to his alma mater. The ship was the kind that pirates sailed in the books her father had read to her as a child. There were even little flags that appeared to be blowing in the wind. She bit down on her lip to keep from giggling at the thought that maybe the ship had nothing at all to do with Viktor's love for his school; maybe he simply wanted to sail the ocean blue and say "argh" and "matey" and all those pirate-y-type words. Captain Krum! She tried to put the idea out of her mind so that her sniggering wouldn't give her away at the image of Viktor with a peg leg and a parrot on his shoulder… also that would be a terrible waste of those perfectly sculpted, freaking beautiful calves that man walked around on.

There was also a Snitch tattooed on his right arse cheek that was streaking back and forth. Seriously? What was it with Quidditch players and Snitches on their bums? Charlie Weasley had been intent, back when they were at Hogwarts, of one day having a Snitch racing across his bum. The only thing that held him back in school was the fear his mother would find out and forcibly remove it from his bum in the most painful way possible. Something Tonks would have paid every last Knut she owned to watch happen!

Viktor made a noise that was somewhere between a growl and a moan, (and completely sexy), and Tonks froze where she stood, for fear he might see her… or she might fall over, something which would lead him to investigate further. And how embarrassing that would be. Viktor dipped his head beneath the spray and shook it, flinging water from his dark hair, that when wet curled nicely around the base of his neck.

Tonks watched him soap up his hand, then his lathered hand, coated in bubbles, drifted down over his hard, perfectly sculpted stomach and Tonks followed the trail his fingers made with eager eyes.

And his fingers were making a trail that was well worth following. They went right to the root of the man. Tonks gave herself a mental pat on the back for being so clever with her double entendre. She'd have to remember that one for the next time Charlie came to town, so she could use it on him. Charlie Weasley could always be counted on to appreciate a good play on words.

Viktor's hand stroked over his cock, and Tonks forgot completely about Charlie Weasley. Her mind was filled with nothing but Viktor Krum. His moan filled the empty changing room, where before only the spray of the water could be heard, and Tonks was itching for more. She didn't dare attempt to go closer, but oh, how she wanted to. She was drooling with anticipation, and she was quite certain there was no more beautiful sight in all of the world than Viktor Krum stroking his cock up and down, watching the soap bubble over his hand, as the head of his cock peeked in and out, in a game of hide-n-seek, that made her want to volunteer to be the seeker.

 _A seeker in pursuit of a Seeker!_

She was getting good at this double entendre stuff and was unable to catch herself before the giggle slipped free from her lips. Tonks breathed a sigh of relief when Viktor seemed too caught up in his own ministrations to have paid her any notice.

His cock was a splendid thing to be sure. It certainly wasn't the longest one she'd ever seen. In fact, Charlie Weasley's was probably longer by a good two inches, but Viktor made up in girth what he lacked in length, and Tonks was more than a little curious as to what a cock that wide would feel like inside of her. He would fill her completely in an entirely different way than Charlie, her boyfriend at Hogwarts, had done. And the men she'd had encounters with since school had finished had not _measured_ up to Charlie in the area of cock comparisons. Viktor's cock intrigued her in a way that made her nipples harden and her knickers moisten.

Viktor's hand set a rhythm that matched perfectly in time with Tonks's pulse, quick, racing, desperate, and frantic with need. His fist slid up to the tip and then twisted back down to the base, up again, and back down. Sometimes his fingers would slide over his sack, fondling, and then they would begin that sensuous assent once more. Tonks's gaze was transfixed.

As wrong as it felt to be spying, she could no more turn around and walk away from that beautiful sight than she could hex herself into next week. And she'd done that once back in first year when Charlie'd got her so rattled that she pointed her wand the wrong direction during Defence Against the Dark Arts class. It was no fun… at all. And be assured he'd paid for that later in a very painful way.

She was considering sliding her hand into her knickers, and pondering what it would be like to get paid for wanking while "officially" on duty when there was a final loud moan and then the shower cut off, and Viktor picked up a towel and began wiping his face. Men! They could never be counted on to wait for a woman—though in fairness, it wasn't like Viktor knew he _should_ be waiting—but still!

There was no time for delay. Tonks began creeping back toward the door, doing her best not to make a sound now that there was no loud running water to mask the sound of her footsteps. She was almost there; just a few more steps and she would be home free, when a rogue bludger came speeding around a corner, hell bent on braining her. A more skilled Auror (or one with a lighter conscience) might have thought to raise her wand and blast the pesky bludger into a million pieces. An Auror who was terrified of being discovered spying on a sexy professional Quidditch player having a wank in the shower turned tail and ran as fast as she could, falling smack over a bench, crashing into a locker and then, when she didn't think it could get worse, the bludger connected soundly with her right temple. She saw stars.

She picked up the few shreds of her dignity that remained, refusing to look back at whatever reaction Krum might be displaying as she clutched her head and slunk away. _When Shacklebolt hears about this, I am SOOOO dead! I'll be lucky if they don't snap my wand into pieces and boot me out of the Auror Department… or give me a one way ticket to Azkaban._

She finally made her way out of the locker room and slumped against the side of the building. Tonks was greeted immediately by a fan trying to sneak in and catch a peek of Krum. She held out a hand to bar the young girl's ingress.

"Oh come on, lady. Have a heart. I just want a little peek."

 _Oh no, only pervy Aurors are allowed to spy on the Quidditch players. If you train hard enough maybe one day you too can earn a place in Azkaban!_ She considered saying it. It would have been the most honest answer she could give. Instead, she simply rubbed the rapidly rising knot on her head and made a somewhat feral sound that caused the young girl's eyes to widen, and then she hurried away from Tonks and the entrance to the changing room.

"Mm-hm."

The baritone sound of someone clearing their throat behind her caused Tonks to whirl in surprise, and her head protested with a sharp pain at the sudden movement and the world around her went out of focus as she reeled from dizziness. She got her bearings and found herself looking at Viktor Krum. "Oh!" she squealed. "It's you."

"Yes," Krum said, his lips twitching. "You vere expecting someone else?"

"What?!? NO! It's just you look different with your clothes on." _Oh, dear Merlin, I think I said that aloud!_ She covered her face with her hand and waved him away. "I'm sorry. I'm going to claim mental defect by means of bludger to the head. If you could just go away now, I'd prefer dying of embarrassment alone. I might as well kill myself and deprive Kingsley of the pleasure." She spread her fingers and peeked through them to find Viktor _still_ standing before her with a smile plastered cross his face.

"Hmm. Well, you're either one of those sadists who finds my utter humiliation completely amusing or you've—" she paused. "Yeah, I can't think of anything else, so I'm going to go with you're a sadist."

Viktor continued to smile. "Usually, I invite a date to dinner first, and then a show, but it seems ve are doing things a bit out of order, yes?"

Tonks rubbed at her still throbbing temple. "Well, yes we are and—What did you say? Did you just ask me out?"

"You have already had the show, but I vould very much like us to share dinner."

Tonks shook her head to clear out any obstructions in her ears. She would have sworn she'd heard him say he'd like to take her to dinner. "Dinner? Okay, mate, maybe you're not a sadist, and you've just taken one too many bludgers to the head."

"Perhaps. Yes, dinner, if you vould like?"

"Oh! Well, yes, I vould—I mean would—like. A girl's gotta eat, right? And well, you've certainly worked up an appetite." _Shite! This could be going better._ "I mean from the match, of course."

Viktor was still smiling. "Of course."

"Oh Em Bee. I should really hush now."

"Most definitely. Though you're rather pretty ven you blush."

Viktor held out a hand to her, and she took it, still somewhat bewildered by the unexpected turn of events the evening had taken. He leaned in and whispered. "Did you like the show?"

"Well, the ending was a little harsh, but that's an ace Snitch you've got on your arse there."

"Vat vas that you said before? Oh Em Bee?"

"Oh man, where have you been? Living under a rock like for ever? It's what all the cool kids are saying now."

"How old are you?"

Tonks wagged a finger at Viktor. "Sore subject, mate. Don't go there."

"Fair enough," Viktor said, and Apparated them away.


End file.
